


Finding Surety

by elareine



Series: so put it in all of the papers [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Forced Coming-Out, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Shower Sex, Vague and unspecific mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elareine/pseuds/elareine
Summary: Mitch kisses a random guy in a club that just happens to look like Auston. Auston just happens to say that he's dating Mitch in front of a dozen reporters. All of this is an accident. Really. That's why they have to pretend to date now. They're good buddies - it'll be fine, right?Right.





	Finding Surety

**Author's Note:**

> I can't send enough love and thanks to prettylittlepliers for helping me with the plot (as she said - fake dating is a rite of passage for a fic writer), the Canada-picking and the beta. 
> 
> This was written plotted in March and written in April 2017 and promptly forgotten about. It would need so much changing to bring it up-to-date that I'd rather leave it dated.

Mitch doesn't think when he pulls the guy closer.

Well, obviously. For one thing, he doesn't even know this dude's name. He's tall, though, looming over Mitch, with dark hair and dark eyes and hell, Mitch can't find it in him to stop him when he leans in. The guy is not a hockey fan, has no idea why kissing this blond man in a Toronto bar might be a bad idea.

Mitch should feel guilty about that.

He kisses back. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.

 

When Auston Matthews wakes up to his phone chiming, it's an ordinary day in Toronto in February: the sun is shining and it’s fucking freezing. The Leafs are in a playoff spot, too, which is perhaps not as usual anymore, but Auston is determined that it will be in the years to come.

That thought is almost enough to motivate him to get out of bed.

His phone chimes again. Mitch is probably texting and driving, the little shit. Auston hopes he crashes.

(He doesn't.)

Twenty minutes later, Auston drops his stuff in the trunk, then takes the seat next to Mitch.

"Morning," he forces out. He likes riding in the car with Mitch, he really does, but it's not easy to override his natural aversion to being awake.

"Morning, sunshine," Mitch replies, but he sounds a little subdued.

He makes himself open his eyes and takes a closer look at his friend. "Dude, you look fucked up."

Mitch swats at him, thankfully without taking his eyes off the road. "Way too woo me, Matthews."

"No, seriously, man," Auston persists, "you don't look too hot. Coming down with something?"

"Aww, are you worried?"

Yes. "About catching the flu, maybe. Get your gross germs away from me."

Mitch laughs. "Nah, just went out last night. It was my high school buddy's birthday - John, I told you about him - and he… I got no idea how he still has a liver, seriously, dude can put that shit away like nothing I've ever seen."

That's high praise coming from a hockey player. Auston grins. "Awww, you got a hangover? Need me to be quiet?"

"As if you weren't going to doze until we're at the rink, anyway," Mitch snorts. "I think this is the most you've said to me before 9 a.m. since the first week of camp."

Auston shrugs. It's true. Also, his eyes are already trying to fall shut again, so he doesn't have much ground to stand on here.  "Was still trying to be polite then."

Mitch sounds affectionate when he says, "Go back to sleep, you giant lump." But then again Auston is almost asleep and might have imagined it.  

Training is a regular affair - joking around with Willy, listening to Mo being captainly-without-being-captain, trying to get the puck past Freddy. They've got a game coming up, and there's a lot of pressure what with the division being so tight, but they try to shrug it off for now.

Afterwards, he's prepared to answer a few standard questions, talk about being focused on the playoffs, feeling confident but cautious, not caring about records as long as the team does well, the usual. What he gets instead is: "Auston, what do you say about the images of you and Mitch Marner kissing?"

...wait, what?

Luckily, Pam Turner - a reporter from the Toronto Star that Auston immediately decides will be his favourite reporter from now on - takes pity on him and says: "They were leaked an hour ago on Twitter. Here." She holds out her phone and shows him.

He stares down at the screen. That's Mitch, yes, and he's kissing a man. For a moment he can't think through the blinding jealousy that explodes inside him. Then he makes himself look. Black hair, similar haircut, broad shoulders, taller than Mitch - he can kind of see the resemblance.

"That is you, right? Are you and Marner in a relationship?"

Still looking at the picture, Auston says, "Yes." Then he freezes while the reporters break out into a plethora of questions. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Of all the times to not think before answering an interview question. Well, it's marginally better than saying ‘I wish.' Probably.

Did he say fuck yet? Because: Fuuuuuck.

He looks up and sees Turner staring at him. She doesn't look convinced. Auston tries to school his face, tries to form his expression into something that screams ‘I was just outed against my will' (it's sort of true, right?) and not ‘I just saw a picture of my best friend kissing another dude and said something stupid'.

He needs everyone to shut up, the other players are starting to come in, and he really doesn't want to discuss this in front of them. In desperation, he points at someone at random and goes, "Okay, one question."

"Were you planning on coming out?"

Oh God, he doesn't even know where the picture was taken, Mitch didn't mention where exactly he went last night. There's no way he's going to pull this off.

And then, of course, it gets worse. Because Mitch, with the best timing in the world, chooses that moment to come up behind him and look over his shoulder. "What's happening? Are there funny gifs of Auston falling on his ass or something?"

And of course, that's the fucking moment that the crowd chooses to stay silent. Behind the reporters, Auston can see Mo looking on warily. Apparently, he has better instincts about trouble than Mitch.

"It's… a picture of us kissing in the club last night, apparently," Auston finally explains, not looking at Mitch. Still, he can feel him tense. Wordlessly, Turner holds out her camera phone again.

Auston does his best to smile at her gratefully. He's not sure he succeeds, to be honest. Behind the scrum, Mo is making ‘cut if off' gestures, a mixture of panic and - is that amusement? - on his face, and yeah, Auston is so on board with that. Should have done that about four minutes ago, actually.

"To answer your question, Ms. Turner, and as you can probably clearly see, we weren't exactly expecting this. Please excuse us."

With that, he drags a still silent Mitch towards Mo, and together they hightail it out of there.

  


Mrs. Courvoisier, their publicist, doesn't look too happy when she sees them entering, but she's not yelling yet, so Mitch considers himself lucky. He might be in shock, actually.

"Auston, Mitch, sit down," she invites them.

They do, silently. Mitch hasn't been able to look at Auston ever since he heard him say "it's a picture of us kissing". Because he was very drunk last night (and God, why didn't any of his friends stop him?), but he's pretty sure it wasn't Auston he's been kissing. Maybe Auston just meant it ironically, in a "look what story they made up now" kinda way, and then the panic on Mitch's face had given them away?

"Now, why am I hearing that you made out in a club last night and talked to reporters about it?" Mrs. Courvoisier asks.

"I… spoke without thinking, I'm sorry," Auston says.

That's weirdly ironic, considering that Auston is usually the one thinking things through and Mitch the one fucking things up. Not that this particular fuck up isn't all on Mitch, anyway, it's just… weird. For the first time, Mitch makes himself look at Auston's face for longer than a fleeting second. Auston's posture is wooden, tense in a way that makes Mitch's shoulders hurt in sympathy.

"You should have been more careful," Mrs. Courvoisier says, and yeah, no shit.

"I know. I'm sorry." He really is. He would have liked to be out - someday, on his own terms, and certainly without dragging Auston into it. (Well. There were some dreams about Auston being a part of that process, but he knows very well that it's never gonna happen that way.)

He feels Auston move his arm next to him, nudging him gently in the side. It's a supportive gesture he's received countless times before, on the bus after a loss, on the bench after a turnover, during long plane rides, but he's never appreciated it as much as he does now.

"We didn't think anyone would see us there," Auston says, and wait, what? Are they still going with that?

Mrs. Courvoisier stares at them severely for a few more uncomfortable seconds, then she sighs. "Alright, well. It's a good thing you admitted the relationship, probably. We'd have preferred a different way of announcing it, obviously - as I'm sure you would have - but management and I have been talking about situations like this."

"You have?" Mitch asks, disbelieving.

"Of course." Suddenly she grins a little. "You weren't all that subtle."

Neither of them answers that one. Mitch still vaguely feels like he got thrown down a huge rabbit hole.

"Anyway, the important thing is to spin this in a way that leaves the more… conservative factions of this sport no room to attack."

Mitch snorts. He can't help it.

"Okay, yes, to spin this in a way that leaves us able to just ignore those fuckers," Mrs. Courvoisier says. Mitch is mildly impressed. She doesn't swear often.

Auston just asks, "Which means what? Press statement?"

"At a minimum, yes. Would you be comfortable with a press conference?"

"No," they both answer at the same time. Mitch suppresses the urge to offer Auston his fist for a fistbump. Instead, he asks, "Something a bit less… grand, maybe?" If he's going to have to convincingly lie about a relationship with Auston while at the same time keeping his massive crush secret, he'd like to do it to as few people as possible.

Oh my god. His family. His brother follows a lot of beat reporters on Twitter.

Not to mention Auston's family, who likely are wondering why their straight son is suddenly talking about being in a relationship with his teammate.

Mitch firmly pushes that freakout away for later. One panic attack at a time, that's his motto.

"How about an interview?" Mrs. Courvoisier offers. "Relaxed setting, maybe a few pictures. Exclusive scoop."

Mitch looks at Auston who looks as relieved as he feels. They're not gonna get a better offer than that. "That sounds good," he tells her.

She nods and jots down a few things. "I'll send you a list of reporters, and you pick who to do it with."

"How about Pam Turner?" Auston suggests.

"Uh." Mrs. Courvoisier looks at Mitch. "Sure, if you also…?"

Mitch nods. He's not quite sure why Auston picked her out of all people, but she always seemed nice, in an ‘I'm asking critical questions but I'm not an ass about it' kind of way. "Sure, let's go with her."

"Okay. So. Press release. I'll go outside and get rid of the mob, and then we'll release the press statement as soon as possible. I'll schedule the interview right away sometime during the next few days. Good thing we've got that home stretch coming up."

Mitch nods. When she says it like that, it sounds almost manageable and not like the terror it is.

"Now, about your private life - I am aware I have no right to ask this, but I'm assuming you're gonna use your new-found freedom. If you could make sure it mostly stays family-friendly, I'd appreciate it."

Mitch is about to open his mouth to ask what exactly constitutes ‘family-friendly' here - he's gotten the same talk about being with women in public as all the other rookies, but he's been queer long enough to know that it's not the same for two guys, okay - but thinks better of it. It's not like he and Auston are going to - actually, what the hell are they going to do?

Mrs. Courvoisier takes their silence for consent, because she briskly gets up and says, "Alright, I'll make sure the coast is clear. Meanwhile, you two write down," she pushes her notepad and a pen at them, "one or two sentences for the press release."

With that, she's gone.

There's a moment of silence. Then Mitch asks: "What the fuck just happened?"

Auston turns to him. "I'm… still not completely sure either?"

They stare at each other for a second without blinking. Mitch cracks first, as always, but Auston is right behind him. Their laughter is a lot harder than the situation really warrants, but hey, it feels good.

Mitch is wiping tears from his eyes when he finally says, "So I'm sorry that I apparently made out with some dude at the club last night? I can't even remember. Fucking John. I blame him."

"All his fault," Auston agrees, back to deadpan. "Wait, do you know this dude? Is he gonna come out of the woods when he sees the picture?"

Mitch thinks. "Nah. I think I remember some of that ‘I'm really straight' bullshit? Like, that kiss in the picture was honestly the only thing that happened. That photographer just clearly didn't stick around any longer, or they'd have noticed. Don't know anything about that dude, but I don't think he'll make a fuss."

"Well, I know that he has a superior taste in haircuts," Auston jokes, looking relieved.

Mitch rolls his eyes. "Sheer coincidence, I assure you. By the way, care to tell me why we're in a relationship now?"

Auston immediately looks shifty. "I… I mean, I didn't really think, to be honest."

"Clearly."

"Shut up," and hey, that's almost a real smile. Win. "I just kinda thought - it would be better to do this together, right? I mean, looks like management took it well, but…"

True. Auston might just have saved his ass there. They might trade one inconvenient if talented rookie away after a year, but they're not gonna do that with the hope of the franchise. Hopefully. He doesn't really know how openly homophobic management can afford to be these days… Wait.

"Wait. Did we just become the first openly out players in the NHL by fucking accident?"

Auston's mouth twitches, but he answers gravely: "It would seem that way. I mean, the season was a little boring anyway."

"You just couldn't have let me break that record on my own, could you?" Mitch rolls his eyes theatrically.   

"Gotta keep up with you, smalls," Auston jokes. "All those assists, consider this mine."

Mitch is pretty sure his smittenness is showing, but he can't stop himself from beaming at him. Man, he's lucky with his friends.

"Seriously, this was a bit earlier than I expected, but whatever, it was never not gonna be nerve-wracking," Auston adds. "I'm sorry it got forced on you like that."

"Yeah, I… wouldn't have chosen it to be that way," Mitch admits. "...wait, you were planning to come out?" Auston had something to come out about?

Auston shrugs. "I mean, not immediately. Wait till I get settled and all that, get a good contract. But like, yeah. Eventually. Like, there are so many kids that come up to me about the ‘first Latin-American drafted first-overall' thing. It's like - it means something to them, so I think coming out would, too?"

He looks so earnest.

"...dude, I mean, that's great and all, but I was operating under the assumption that you're a really chill straight dude here, so give me a second."

Auston blinks, then says, "I guess that's why my mom tells me to be more and open and shit. I… sort of forgot? Sorry. Not that you said anything."

"True," Mitch admits. "We're an embarrassment. Seriously, dude, we're best friends, we gotta do better than this." He stretches his hand out. "Hi Auston, I'm gay."

Auston shakes it with all due ceremony. "Hi Mitch, I'm pan. Nice to meet you, cause I think we're officially dating now."

Mitch kinda wants to hit him for the reminder, but he just sighs and says, "Yeah, I don't think we can back out of it now. So. What's our story?"

Auston looks at him blankly. "Our story?"

Mitch rolls his eyes. Hasn't the man ever seen any of those cool movies where spies have to go undercover as a couple? (Okay, they're romantic comedies. The point still stands.) "Like, how long have we been together? What happened? We gotta get our stories straight, dude, or they'll catch us."

"Like spies?" Auston asks. Mitch always knew there's hope for him yet.

"Exactly! I mean, I guess there's no need to say how we met or anything, that's pretty obvious," Mitch thinks out loud. "So… uh… how about we say it's been a couple of months, minimum?" That brings him to another train of thought, one he doesn't really want to mention, but forces himself to anyway. "Or maybe a bit longer than that. That way it sounds better when we break up."

Auston looks startled at that. "Break up?" He seems almost hurt.

Mitch makes himself roll his eyes. "‘Working better as best friends' break up, dummy, I'm not going to ditch you or any of that drama shit. It'll have to happen eventually, right?"

"Right," Auston agrees tonelessly, "but first, let's make them believe we're dating. January?"

"How about the full cliche and we say New Year's Eve?" Mitch laughs. "We did spend that together, after all."

"Sure. We can always figure out more details before the interview. Just one more thing."

"Yes?"

"What club did you go to last night? I was panicking the entire time cause I didn't know."

Mitch laughs. This is, objectively, a terrible day - he's been forcibly outed, his career is in danger, his team might shun him, his family is going to be disappointed, and to top it all off he still has a mild hangover. But Auston is next to him, and they're laughing, and somehow, it's gonna be okay.

 

The next couple of days are… weird. There is one last away game against the Bruins before their home stretch starts, and Auston is sort of dreading the moment they'll walk into the stadium compound to meet the others at the bus stop. At least they're gonna be together, he tells himself, chancing a glance at Mitch next to him.

"Nervous?" his friend promptly asks. Sometimes Auston forgets that Mitch is one of the few people that can read him easily.

It makes it easier to admit, "A little. You?"

"Oh, shitting my pants."

"Draft-level?"

Mitch considers that. "Nah. Ranks below first practice here, too."

Auston thinks about it. "Yeah, okay, definitely. Also, that school concert in third grade."

"The one where you accidentally set something on fire backstage?" Mitch laughs. "We'll have to see how a playoff game seven ranks on that list." Then, because he's a dork, he searches for some wood, finally ending up knocking himself on the head.

"What did your family say, by the way?" Auston changes the topic.

"They were fine. Laughing at me, really, and not so happy about me being that drunk, duh, but also weirdly happy. Like. Prepare to be invited for dinner."

"I am always prepared for that." It's true. Family dinner at the Marner's is a weekly thing at this point.

"I mean it - no, actually, if you're that complimentary about the food it will help immensely, keep doing that," Mitch laughs. "What about yours?"

It was one of the most awkward conversations Auston has ever had in his life, to be honest, his mother cooing about how she's so glad that he found someone to be that relaxed with. That Mitch boy always seemed very nice when she met him, so she's happy, only he could have told her sooner, and are they safe? He ended up telling her that they had wanted to tell their families in person once they had settled a bit and that she, of course, would have been the first to know and yadda yadda. That just prompted her to go on a rant about how the person who took the picture had no right to out them like this, which Auston fully agreed with her on, so that was fine.

"My parents are fine. Alex wasn't home, thank god, but I'm sure I'll hear from her as soon as she's done with her paper and switches on her notifications."

"Yeah, I haven't done that yet," Mitch admits. "I'll check it out in a day or so, but my dad advised me not to."

"I was on Tumblr, but I got my own name blacklisted," Auston explains. "Probably a good idea to not check. I might do my messages later, though."

"You probably got a text from Pat, too," Mitch says. "I'm sure he's salivating at the prospects for You Can Play, but he managed to sound sorry about the ‘no choice' part in being outed, so."

"Oh, wonderful. More awkward videos."

"If we do, like, two hundred more of these, we might develop some acting talent," Mitch suggests.

"Suuuure."

And with that, they're in the parking lot. Auston still feels tense - the team is important, okay, hockey is nothing without the other players, and more than that: They're his friends, too. But this morning he would have added Mitch's friendship to the "List of things I might lose today cause I can't keep my mouth shut", so he's just very relieved that they're still them.

They get out of the car and shoulder their bags in silence. Then they make their way to the bus stop where everyone is waiting, walking close enough that their shoulders touch.

No one reacts. Most guys are chatting or on their phone, looking up to say hi, but that's it. Auston wasn't - well, he wasn't exactly expecting the Spanish Inquisition or being insulted, but he was expecting... something. This is nothing. This is normal.

He feels a tug on his elbow and follows Mitch over to Mo who's just clicking around on his phone. Good idea. They might not have an official captain right now, but everyone knows it's gonna be Mo.

"Hey," Mitch says, and Auston echoes him.

Mo ignores their greeting to raise an eyebrow at them. "In a club, really? Couldn't keep it in your pants, boys?"

Mitch shrugs. "What can I say, I'm irresistible."

That, at least, is familiar territory, if new material and Auston immediately chirps back, "More like the other way around."

"Must've lost my good taste."

"I'm pretty sure that goes for both of you," Mo interrupts good-naturedly before they really can get going. "Still, congratulations, I guess."

Mitch asks cautiously, "So… you guys are chill?"

"Uh. Dudes. My dudes. You're not exactly subtle."

Mitch's mutter of "Why is everyone saying that" is luckily covered up by Jake calling over, "We were gonna make bets about when you tell us, but noooo, Mo-no-fun here wouldn't let us."

"Ooookay," Mitch says very slowly. Auston is pretty sure he's looking pretty unimpressed himself.

But, uh, it's nice. Everyone else just ignores the whole thing, but no one looks uncomfortable greeting them, joking around or whatever. Their respective roommates don't even joke about switching rooms, which Auston finds mildly impressive. He's not sure he could have resisted that one.

In the bus with Mitch next to him, Auston finally relaxes enough to check his own messages. A few in Spanish from his mom this morning, one in English from his dad, a few of his non-hockey friends, Alex taking the shit, Brey being nice about it, that one dude from junior hockey whose dick he might have sucked once, Liz, Peter, and - "Sidney Crosby texted me."

Mitch takes out his headphones. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Auston just wordlessly hands him his phone.

Mitch reads it and blinks. "'Canada is proud of you. Please tell Marner, too.' What."

"I have no idea."

"Why does he have your number?"

"I didn't know he had. What the fuck."

"I don't… did Sidney Crosby just tell us that Canada is proud of us for making out in a club?"

"I'm not even Canadian!"

"...maybe he's hoping we'll marry and you’ll come play for Canada?"

Auston feels like his brain is breaking a little bit here, but: "You know. That's actually the likeliest explanation I can come up with." He takes his phone back and, after a second of hesitation, screenshots the conversation. He wants proof that this really happened.

Mitch puts his earphones back in. Auston has just started going through his messages again when Mitch starts humming, and it takes him a second to place it.

It's fucking ‘Oh Canada'.

 

"Mitch. Mitch, Mitch, Mitch. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Mitch winces. Audibly. Stromer deserves to hear how appalled he is by his general existence.

"Hi, Stromer, how are you? I'm good, thanks for asking."

Dylan, of course, ignores him. "That's not Matthews in that picture, is it?"

"How did you know?" Mitch demands, totally admitting to it. "You didn't memorise the back of his head or something, right? Cause that would be creepy, Stromer, even for you."

"Fuck you, I'm not you," Dylan shoots back. "Anyway, I know because there's no way you whined to me about your pining for months on end without mentioning once that you're dating the dude."

He's got a point there. Mitch doesn't know how to reply, but luckily Strome secretly likes talking as much as he does.

"Are you fucking kidding me," Dylan asks flatly. "Connor is pining for his biggest rival slash ex and you're fake-dating your best friend. How is this my life? No, actually, how is this your life?"

"I… don't know, Stromer." Mitch tries to explain: "I kinda made out with this dude cause he looked like Auston? And then Auston was being all gallant and said it was him so I don't have to do this alone?"

Dylan's voice sounds a lot softer when he asks: "And you're in love with him?"

Mitch throws an arm over his eyes. That does sound kinda pathetic, yeah. "Yeah, well, what else is new."

There's a pause. "I don't know whether I feel sorry for you or if I just want to laugh in your face because that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Dylan finally admits.

"It's fine, I don't know either. But, like. Could be a lot worse."

Dylan considers that. "True. Guess he did you a solid there. Though I guess it's like, at least he also doesn't have to do it alone."

"Yeah, but like, I didn't even know he's pan, man, so I don't think he's happy to be that open about it," Mitch voices the fear that has been plaguing him for two days now. "He did say that he was planning to come out eventually, but… wait, how did you know there's something to come out about? I didn't know!"

He can practically see Dylan roll his eyes at him. "I have eyes, apparently unlike you, fuckwit. Don't worry; I'm sure you'd have been the first to know either way."

"Well, duh, I'm his best friend here," Mitch says. "I'm not buying your know-it-all attitude, by the way. You just got a lucky guess in and now you're preening and prancing."

"Of course, Mitch, that's what it is. Just keep thinking that. Anyway, if you want a break from the soap opera, call me."

"Will do, Stromer. Thanks."  

Five minutes after he hangs up, he gets a text from Auston: 'Why did McDavid just text me to threaten my balls?!?!?'

'I'll tell him you're going to marry me and play for Canada.' Auston gets pissy when his spelling isn't correct; it's hilarious. Mitch is in love with a pretentious douchebag.

'He pretty much told me that's what's expected of me if I want to stay alive. Is Stromer going to call me too??'

'Nah, he knows the truth. Dude knows me too well.' Though Strome is apparently the only one who does. It bears asking again: What the fuck is his life?

It takes a few minutes for Auston to reply. Then Mitch gets, 'McDavid also told me to take you on a date.'

Mitch swallows. What is he even going to say to that? They were always going to have to do that kind of stuff if they want to be convincing, but this hits a little too close to home for his comfort. In the end, he decides to go for 'Gonna wine and dine me, big boy?', because Mitch is nothing but classy.

To his surprise, the answer is: 'how about some coffee this afternoon?'

Looks like Auston is ready to do this all the way, then. 'Sure. Somewhere public, I assume?'

'Ugh.' Is what he gets, followed by, 'Yeah. Black Canary at Dundas Square?'

Oh dude, can't get more public than that. Pretty much the only surer place to be spotted is at the Hockey Hall of Fame.

'Meet you there in an hour?' He needs some time to prepare. It's necessary to look good for a fake date with his best friend, after all. Or something. He might be a little nervous about this, unreasonable as it is. And not just about people's reactions.

'Alright.'

After a second of thought, Mitch opens another conversation and tells Connor, 'He's taking me on a date. Next time, take care of your own drama first.'

Connor is clearly bored, because he gets a reply within seconds, 'There is no drama here. And the threat still stands.'

Well, at least there's one person more hopeless than he is. Nice. It's not as much of a comfort when he's standing in front of the xxx coffeeshop fifty-five minutes later, waiting and trying to ignore the glances of passersby. He's happy to give autographs when asked, but right now he's on a mission. Hopefully, everyone will chalk it up to his obvious nerves to their first public outing and not to, you know, the fact that they're actually not dating and just pretending to for the press.

To his surprise, Auston, when he shows up, looks good. Okay, admittedly Mitch always thinks that, but he's wearing tight black jeans without any of his usual knee holes and a soft red sweater that sits just right on his shoulders. He spots Mitch and smiles, makes his way over.

There's a moment of hesitation when he reaches the table and Mitch gets up to dole out his usual bro-hug or fist bump before remembering, oh, right, we're pretending to be on a date and kissing him on the cheek instead. Auston looks faintly pink when he draws back. Mitch immediately resolves to do this as often as possible.

"What are you getting?"

Auston gives him the side eye. They usually just get their own stuff. "Caramel Mocha, but -"

Mitch is already pulling out his wallet. "Gotta treat my boyfriend right, babe. Keep the table for us, will you?"

Auston looks deeply sceptical, but he's also sitting down, so Mitch takes that as agreement and goes to order. The cashier doesn't seem to recognise him, just takes his money and directs him toward the pick-up area.

The barista, though. The barista puts heart sprinkles on their drinks. When he looks up, she winks at him. He decides retreat is the better part of valour, grabs their drinks and power walks back to their table with a stuttered "Thanks, have a good day".  Auston raises an eyebrow when he sees the hearts.

"I think the news is getting around," Mitch explains.

For a moment, there's an awkward silence. Because Mitch is Mitch, he's the one to break it. "Dude, you pumped for the new Doctor?"

Auston groans dramatically. He calls Mitch a drama queen so often, but Mitch knows where the truth lies. "I can't believe you made me watch every season this year."

"Not all of them, there's still the classics left. Years and years of fun," Mitch teases him.

"Don't even tell me. I already got into an argument with my sister last week; I don't wanna give her more ammunition."

"Oh, what about?" Mitch is genuinely curious. Auston has opinions about tv shows. It's hilarious.

"She said Martha was annoying."

"What?" Now he's genuinely outraged. "She was amazing! Almost a doctor! And certainly better than he was about a lot of shit."

"And her family is great, and she with them," Auston agrees. "Okay, the whole unrequited love thing was a bit cringey, but so was Rose in the beginning. Not their fault."

"Totally not." Okay, that agreement came out a little too heartfelt. "Though I gotta admit, so far Donna is still my favourite."

Auston hummed. "She was pretty cool. Deserved better."

"Ugh, yeah." Mitch will never admit it, but thinking about some of the endings for the doctor's companions still makes him tear up, so he changes the topic. "At least the trailer for the new series is looking good."

"Series, huh?" Auston mocks him. "So British of you."

"Season, then," Mitch rolls his eyes good naturedly. "Capaldi's last. And Moffat's, may he rest in pieces."

"I'm mostly excited for Bill."

Now they're almost back to normal, and Mitch pretty much forgets that this is supposed to be a date.  

They finish their coffees and companionably walk down xxx street until they come to xxx station. As they're about to part, Mitch suddenly feels Auston grab his elbow and pull him close. "Huh?"

Auston leans in close and murmurs into his ear, "Fans at eight o'clock."

"Do you even know what that means?" Mitch chirps, but yeah, now that Auston mentions it, he can see people with camera phones over his shoulder, too. He's feeling good, a little bit daring, definitely mischievous. He asks: "Wanna give them something to look at?"

Auston looks confused a second, then he seems to clue in and lets his gaze deliberately, Mitch thinks, drop down to Mitch's lips. He nods.

For a moment, Mitch considers pushing for more of an answer - but they had talked about this, and Auston had surprisingly been chill with more PDA than Mitch, so. Without thinking further, he goes on his tiptoes (asshole could have ducked down a bit) and plants one on him. Then he stays there, because oh, that's nice, despite the height difference and both their lips being chapped. Even better than the kiss is Auston's other hand coming up to rest on his hips and lingering there even after they finally break the kiss, keeping Mitch close. Mitch just tries very hard to remind himself that they're in public, which is enough to keep him from getting aroused in any kind of visible fashion.

Auston's face is a little blank when Mitch opens his eyes to look at him. It's the expression he's familiar with from losses and goal droughts. Mitch swallows.

"Uh. Bye, then?"

He swears that he can feel Auston's hand tighten on his hips for a second (in anger?), but then he nods, lets go of Mitch and turns away.

 

Auston is angry with himself. And confused. But mostly angry.

Because kissing Mitch? That's what winning feels like. Except that's his fucking best friend and teammate, who has already so much as told him that he'd never date Auston.

Auston has always prided himself on never having fallen for a straight guy so far, but honestly, a gay one that isn't into him is not that much better. He doesn't do this shit. They'll do the fake dating thing, break up sometime next season, and then it'll go back to normal.

Starting with this interview.

He gets to Mitch's apartment about half an hour before the reporter arrives. Mitch greets him with: "So it looks like you won't be playing for Canada after all." Is Mitch ‘breaking up' with him? He's not prepared for how much that thought hurts.

At least he manages not to sound pathetic as he says: "You breaking up with me already?"

"Management would kill me," Mitch laughs. "Nah, NHL isn't letting you go to the Olympics."

Oh. Right. That other giant pile of shit in his life that's he's ignoring right now. (Also the Toronto media. And the fact that the playoffs still aren't a sure thing despite them being second in the division with, like, two weeks left.) Auston is getting really good at that.

"You mean not letting us go," he corrects him absently, and Mitch beams at him, all pleased. "Sure thing. Now, my mom is out, decided it might be awkward with her here," he explains as they settle in to wait.

"Good call," Auston agrees. Mitch's mom is awesome, but. Awkward.

"You good about the backstory and stuff?"

"I'm fine." He's gone over everything twice already this morning. Whether that makes it believable - well. "I'm less worried about forgetting a detail, cause it's not like they have a lot to check it against, we can improvise. Acting, though? Not our strong suit."

Mitch grins. "I know, it's so difficult to pretend to be in love with you. Should come easy for you, though."

Well, yes. Auston snorts. "You wish."

Pam Turner is punctual, greeting them in a friendly, but professional way before introducing her photographer, Stacy. Mitch is being his usual welcoming self, guiding them to the seating area in the kitchen and offering drinks - if Auston didn't know any better, he'd say he doesn't look nervous at all.

They sit down across from Pam, Mitch moving his chair close enough that Auston feels their shoulders bumping. Pam smiles at them and remarks, "I'm honestly not sure I've ever done an interview like this - seeing how I'm, you know, reporting on hockey," she adds drily, and they all laugh. "I'm a bit shocked still."

"You and us both," Mitch says. At least that's not a lie.

"As you probably know, we have agreed to let you and the club see the finished product before we run it," she explains as she takes out her recording device and switches it on. "But I'd like to add: please feel free to refuse to answer questions. We realise that this is, basically, an invasion of your privacy, and while I welcome the chance to interview you, I have no wish to violate that privacy further."

Auston can feel his smile turn a lot more real as he says, "Thank you."

"We appreciate that," Mitch adds. "Obviously the way this happened wasn't cool with us."

"Although we are aware that with the way the season is going we have become public figures of a kind, it's still our first year in the NHL. Having a private moment all over Twitter is not something you believe happens until it happens," Auston explains, and he very much means it. Okay, it wasn't actually him in the photo, but that dude didn't want to be outed either, and even if Mitch is trying to shrug it off, it could have seriously hurt him and his career.

Turner nods and jots down a few things. "Have you been following the reactions?"

Auston shakes his head. "We've gotten some messages of support from other players, but I've been avoiding social media, to be honest."

"I checked Twitter for like, twenty minutes, then it got a bit too much," Mitch admits, and oh, he hasn't told Auston about that. Auston hesitates for a second, then he thinks, 'fuck it,' and takes Mitch's hand. It would be the natural thing to do if his boyfriend were upset.

Mitch smiles and rests their linked hands on the table as he continues, "I mean, the comments aren't all bad or anything, but it never gets better to see that your sexuality and your right to a relationship is apparently a topic of debate."

"That was one reason not to go public before," Auston adds. "We had both been thinking about it - we know how important queer role models are, even if it feels absurd that we could be one of them - but it detracts from what our team is doing right now."

"Yes, I can see that," Pam agrees. Then she asks, "So how long have you been together?"

"Since New Year's Eve, so… you do the math," Mitch shrugs.

Auston feels like he needs to contribute something, so he adds, "Took it slow at first."

"Yeah, it's like - we're teammates, right?" Mitch spreads his hand. "It was kind of unbelievable at first, anyway - that he'd want me that way - but also you really don't want to fuck up - excuse me, mess with the team."

"Are you still afraid of that?" Turner asks.

"No," Auston says very firmly, "Never."

She raises an eyebrow. "Never?"

"We're not saying we could never break up, or anything," Mitch explains, "but we're also friends, and we're professionals. Neither of us would let anything like this interfere with hockey. It's our life."

Auston squeezes his hand. He can't help it.

Pam Turner is smiling at them now, and Auston knows they've won her over. Score.

  


Mitch's mom is the one who goes out to buy the magazine. She leaves it open on the table. Mitch snatches it up as soon as he gets in from their road trip, curious. They haven't done any pre-reading, in the end, since they thought the interview had gone well, and anyway, Mrs. Courvoisier at the club probably went through it with a magnifying glass.

The pictures hit him first. They're probably some of the nicest that were ever taken of the two of them when they were aware of it. Like, they're actually smiling here. And there's one of them sitting at the table (the photographer must have sneakily taken it while they were answering questions) and holding hands and that's - a lot. Like. Mitch has no idea why Auston was worried about their acting, because this right there, that's what a couple looks like.

He can't look at it anymore.

The article is marginally better to focus on - lots of quotes infused with descriptions of how happy they look and how professional they are about hockey. It kinda seems like Pam Turner has read some of the same twitter comments Mitch has. There's also quotes from other hockey players, including Connor ("I'm very proud of Mitch, and Auston, too. Our sport can only benefit from diversity, and this is a huge step towards it."), Mo ("They're our teammates, that doesn't change. We knew for some time, and we'll tease them as we do everyone, but it doesn't change anything on the ice." If Mitch knows him at all, it was probably originally followed by a blowjob joke.) and… Malkin? The reporter must have been going for Crosby, but didn't get him. Or maybe it was the Russian angle, because they also had Ovechkin, what the fuck. Mitch is vaguely mortified that apparently Alexander fucking Ovechkin is now being asked about his fake relationship. It's going to be fun the next time they face the Caps. At least Ovechkin's and Malkin's quotes are supportive, too.

He takes out his phone and texts Auston, 'Mom bought the article for us.'

'How is it?'

'Pretty nice. We look happy.' Mitch hesitates for a second, then erases the second sentence before he hits ‘send'. Then he follows it up with: 'They asked Malkin and Ovechkin about us.'

His reply comes in the form of three rows of throwing up emojis. Mitch giggles. Feeling bold, he types, 'Same. Let's go on another date. Can't let the adoring public down.'

'Sure, what do you want to do?'

For a moment, Mitch considers suggesting a walk through the zoo or a fancy restaurant. But it's way too freezing to be outside, and neither of them is all that fancy, really, except for maybe Auston about his suits. Also, Auston is basically giving him a free pass here; he's gotta use that window of opportunity while it's open.

'Power Rangers!!'

'Dude' is the very informative answer he gets back, and he considers pushing, but Auston follows it up with 'Awesome. Tonight?'

Jesus, he's honestly never taken Auston for being so spontaneous with his dates. If he'd thought about it (has thought about), Mitch would have taken him to be considerate, planning everything in his head with about five contingency plans, not hysterical, just prepared, just as he is about hockey. But then again, this is not a date, he reminds himself, and they would probably gonna hang out tonight anyway cause neither of them quite knows what to do with their energy after a road trip. It's either hyped up or bone tired for them. Luckily, they're usually in sync.

So he does a quick google and texts, 'Sure. Pick you up seven thirty?'

He's interrupted by his mother entering the room. "You want to eat something, Mitch? I got some stew prepared."

He smiles at her. "Thank you. Can we have dinner a bit early today so I can leave at six?"

"Of course. You have plans, honey?"

"Auston is taking me out to watch a movie." And, okay, just saying that makes him blush.

His mother pats his cheek. "Aww. You two are adorable - I've always thought so. Get changed, then, and I'll put the casserole in the oven."

"Changed?" he asks in confusion.

She clucks at him. "It's a date, right? I know you just saw each other, but it's important to dress up for special occasions, Mitch."

Mitch decides not remind her that he and Auston wear suits all the time. Maybe that's not the kind of dressing up she means, anyway, and he's stopping that train of thought right here. "Okay, mom. I'll go shower."

 

Since Mitch is picking Auston up in the car, there's no need for a kiss on the cheek as a greeting this time. It almost makes Mitch sad; he loves doling those out. Auston has stopped blushing by now, though, so he will have to come up with something new soon.

Anyway, they're holding hands as they get their tickets, but that's almost become normal now, too, since they have done so for a lot of the road trip. And there's a moment when Auston takes off his coat - he is actually wearing a button-down shirt this time. No tie, but that almost makes it worse. Mitch wants to bite his throat.

But they sit down, both of their arms on the armrest between them because despite whatever commentators like to say, Mitch is a big boy, too, thanks a lot, and he thinks this will be just fine.

Mitch is wrong.

He sits next to Auston a lot. In the car, on the bus, the plane, playing Call of Duty at home, the bench… but this time, it's as if the air is crackling between them.

Auston's sleeves are rolled up. The soft skin of his wrist is touching Mitch's knuckles. Mitch has never wanted to fidget so badly and yet kept his hand so still.

During a particularly emotional moment, Auston is the one moving around in his seat a bit, and his hand is now pressing against Mitch's more firmly. Their fingers aren't linked or anything, but. They could be. Mitch makes sure to press his down into the armrest, to ensure they're not moving without his active input. It's dark. There's no excuse.

When the kids are all together again and suited up and combining their dinosaur robots into one giant robot, Auston's knee knocks his in excitement. He does that quite often, but man, this time it's all Mitch can do not to moan. Luckily, it's fairly easy to distract himself. After all, there's a giant robot on the screen. It's awesome, is what Mitch is getting at here.

"It's great to watch this kind of animation on the big screen," Mitch enthuses as they walk out of the cinema, "We should do that more often."

"Eh, I prefer watching movies at home with you," Auston shrugs, and it's - Auston is always so sure of what he's saying, even when he's just casually re-affirming their friendship. Mitch usually finds his directness endlessly reassuring. With Auston, he never has to worry that he comes on too strong, is too annoying, too much. Auston would tell him if he is.

Of course, that also means that Mitch would know if he had any chance with Auston.

"...did you just say ‘eh’?" he asks.  

Auston shoves him. "Oh, shut up. You must be rubbing off on me."

Mitch very heroically resists the joke that's on the tip of his tongue.

 

Being in the playoffs is nothing like Auston has dreamed. If he thought that being in the NHL was gruelling and exhilarating in turn, this is a whole other level. They're playing against the Caps, the reigning President's Trophy holders, and he's heard the jokes about "Leafs swept in three", they all have, and boy do they want to prove everyone wrong.

It's Game 3, and so far, they're not doing too badly if you don't look at the actual outcomes. Today's loss hurt, but fuck, Auston scored, Mitch assisted twice, and they got so close, again, and it's only 3-0, after all. They can do this.

There hasn't been a question about Mitch going home today. He parks and gets out with Auston at his apartment without either of them talking about it, cause fuck, today is a post-road trip high times three. Everything hurts, fairly literally - it's not like the Caps are delicate daisies, but then, neither are they. Auston loves it, loves feeling like he's working hard, like he's got to fight to be where he wants to be, and that he's winning at it.

Mitch must be feeling worse - he went toe to toe with Ovie, again, and he won some of these duels, again, but he's gotta be feeling that.

They plop down on the couch, but Auston can feel his legs, heavy as they are, jittering. Next to him, Mitch is practically bouncing in his seat.

"If it's always like this, I'm going to be dead by the time we reach the final," Auston tells him.

"Fuck, I need to jerk off," Mitch sighs. "Mind if I use your shower?"

"Go ahead," Auston tells him automatically, then his brain catches up with him. "Wait, what?"

Mitch is already on his feet and on his way to the bathroom as he calls out, "Wanna join me?" He's laughing, exhilarated, and Auston basks in the sound for three seconds before he gets up, because fuck yeah.

Mitch is already getting under the spray, his suit on the floor because he's a messy teenager. He's also half-hard already. Auston knows he's staring, halfway to unbuttoning his own shirt, but right now, he can't stop.

There's a slight flush at the base of Mitch's throat. Auston wants to lick it.

"So, you just gonna look at me all day?" Mitch grins. He doesn't look like he'd mind, so Auston feels okay about teasing back, "Maybe."

Mitch makes a show of thinking about it, then he says, "Nope, we're way past the straight-bros-jerking-off-while-watching-each-other-uncomfortably stage. Get naked and in here, bro." He turns around and turns on the spray.

Auston laughs. "What boring ass porn do you watch, dude?" But he does take his clothes off as quickly as a pro athlete can, which is very, and gets into the shower.

Mitch doesn't answer. Instead, he looks at Auston under the water and reaches out a hand, then another, stroking his shoulders, then, coming closer, stroking down his back. His touch is pure electricity. Abruptly, Auston doesn't feel like laughing anymore.

"Mitch, can I-" he gasps, and he doesn't finish the question, but Mitch seems to understand, anyway, because he's pulling him closer towards him until Auston is pressing him into the wall. It's wet and hot, and steamy, and all those porn adjectives, but this isn't porn, this is Mitch. It's so much better.

Auston wants to kiss him so badly, but - he can't. So he lowers his head to Mitch's neck, makes it look like he's not hiding his face from him by starting to suck. And yeah, that's pretty good, too. Like, it doesn't taste like anything special - water, mostly - but Mitch is so pale that it'll leave a mark, and that's a lovely thought.

They're rocking against each other steadily, now. Auston can feel Mitch's cock against his thigh; his own is rubbing against a smooth stomach. Then he feels Mitch start to tense and fuck hiding: he has to pull back a little to watch this. Mitch is gorgeous, gasping underneath his hands, head thrown back, those blue eyes half-covered by heavy eyelids and clouded over.

Auston doesn't - can't - can't finish this thought, because he's coming, and for a second everything is pleasure and pure physical relief.

They slump against each other. It takes a minute for Auston to get it together enough to lift his weight off Mitch and lean against the wall next to him. At least Mitch seems to be as orgasm dumb as he is because he isn't complaining, just staring at the ceiling with a dreamy look on his face.

Mitch raises a hand, silently, and forms it into a fist. "Fucking awesome, man."

Auston takes a second to get his brain back online, then bumps it with his own. "Yeah."

He knows he sounds too tense, unnatural, but he can't help it.  He can't do this anymore.

  


In the end, they lose the series to the Caps. It's not pretty, and Mitch doesn't want to answer any questions after. He just - doesn't. Mo and Bozie volunteer, and so does Auston. As he should. He hasn't scored this game, but he has most of the ones before. He has nothing to reproach himself for, unlike, say, Mitch.

Afterwards, Auston gets into the car with him. For the first time in days, the silence isn't awkward, just sad. Today, it's easy to forget that Auston has been tensing up every time Mitch touched him as if they had crossed a line that Auston is now regretting even toeing.

Mitch had thought, maybe, that that had been the start of something real. Boy, had he been wrong. But for now, he's just glad that he has someone to share this hurt with.

They spend the night in Mitch's living room, cuddling on the couch, his mom tactfully leaving them alone. The next morning, Auston is gone when Mitch wakes up, but there's a text saying 'Are we ever going to make it through The Two Towers without falling asleep at the Ents???'

Mitch writes back, 'get the lotr marathon idea out of your head already,' and, for good measure, adds 'Neeeeeeee v eeeeee r' and a row of trees. One day, he'll get Auston to admit publicly to what a Tolkien geek he is.

It doesn't make the loss hurt less, but trading barbs with Auston over the phone all day sure makes for a good distraction, and Mitch feels like they're back on surer ground.

 

Two days later, after locker cleanout, Mitch picks Auston up one last time to drive him to the airport. (He's the best friend ever, honestly.) Auston gets into the car, looking unusually awake for 8 a.m. Mitch grins at him.

"You pumped for some original tortilla soup?"

Auston laughs and doesn't even deny it, just says "It'll be good to have some decent weather for once."

Mitch grimaces up at the grey Toronto sky and can't even come up with a come-back to that. "So what are your plans for the break?" he asks.

"You mean apart from working out, skating, eating and sleeping?" Auston asks.

"Fair." Last summer had already shown that preparing for a season of the NHL was a very different time commitment to anything they'd done before. Mitch expects it to get worse this time around.

"Meet up with some friends, chill at the pool, get some barbecues going, that kinda stuff. Nothing exciting. Some little thing called the NHL Awards, maybe. How about you? Finally gonna visit the zoo again, bother the llamas?"

"Llamas are fucking awesome and they love me, shut up."  

They chit-chat in that fashion until he pulls up behind the row of taxis at Auston's terminal.

Mitch wants to break this tension. "You gonna send me heart selfies on Instagram?"

Hey, it's a joking way of saying ‘I'm gonna miss you so stay the fuck in touch, dick.' He's not prepared for it when Auston, instead of laughing and teasing him about his terrible pics, tenses up and says: "Maybe we should just… let it fade out."

"What do you mean?"

"Like. Let everything quiet down over the summer, and just… not be together anymore in fall," Auston explains.

Mitch really, really doesn't want to hear this, but - what is he supposed to do?

"Okay," he whispers.

"Okay?"

"Okay." Then, because this - their friendship - can't end here: "Did we just accidentally quote ‘The Fault in Our Stars'? Are you going to cry on me again?"

"I'm not- I didn't cry at that!" Auston sputters, outraged, and Mitch laughs.

"Yeah, right."

"As if you didn't."

"Of course I did," Mitch agrees, because he has no shame about this, "It's a great book and a good movie, of course I cried. Like. Well done, Shailene Woodley and Ansel Elgort."

Now Auston is laughing and opening the car door. "Sure, Mitch, keep telling yourself that's cool. Anyway, thanks for the ride, man."

"Anytime," Mitch replies and waves until Auston has taken his suitcase out of the trunk and has disappeared inside.

Then he drives home in a daze and collapses on his bed. For a moment, he considers crying, but. He can't even do that. In the end, he closes his eyes and wills everything to go away.

He wakes up the gentle touch on his shoulder, and for a moment his sleepy mind goes Auston, but: "Everything alright, honey?" his mother asks.

He just shakes his head, chokes out: "I don't think so."

Immediately, his mother sits down next to him, starts running a hand through his hair. "I know the loss hurts, but it's your first year, Mitch, you've done so well-"

"I think Auston just broke up with me." That's not the truth, not really, but it's all he's allowed to say, and fuck, that's what it feels like. Those few, precious dates, those kisses on the cheek, the constant hand-holding… It's like - empty chairs at empty tables. That's a song, okay, from a fairly bad movie and a musical he hasn't even seen, and he hasn't lost any friends here (surely Auston will be back to normal in September, he's not one to hold a grudge), hasn't lost anything except a shadow of something he'd like to have, but. But. That's what he feels like.

Empty.

"What happened?" his mother asks softly.

How can he explain? "I don't know. Just. Said it's… too much, I guess." Then, the quintessential truth: "I think he doesn't want me."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," his mom sighs. She stays quiet for a moment, letting him bury his face in her shoulder. Then she offers: "Maybe some time apart will help you. The end of the season and your upcoming separation… he might have panicked, you know."

"Maybe," Mitch says. But somehow, he doesn't think so. "Mom, I think I want to go to Worlds."

  


Auston is fully aware that he has no reason to complain. He's the one who started this farce, the one who very willingly engaged in shower sex with his best friend, the one who realised they had to break this off before there was no going back for him.

Except it's not exactly working well for him right now. The sun is out, his family is out in full force to cheer him up, his training is still fairly relaxed at this point, his friends that go to college are all home for the summer - but still he's moping because he just misses Mitch. They text, kinda a lot for two people who are ostensibly breaking up, but whatever, they'll just become the textbook example for ‘remaining friends'. But it's not the same. Auston is slowly realising just how much time they spent together during the season.

His mom is trying to get him to talk about it, but what is he supposed to say? He doesn't want to lie. His dad just gives him random pats on the back a lot.  

Alexa (when she's home) and Brey are an absolute pain in the ass in a very sisterly way, and he's starting to think they might have figured out at least part of the real story. Brey also keeps telling him to get his ass back to Toronto, stat.

It's not that Auston hasn't thought about it, it's just - what good is that gonna do? He'd forced a fake relationship on Mitch, and that had been fine. Then they had sex, and that had been fine. And now Auston wants more and is pretty sure that Mitch knows that, cause how fucking oblivious would he have to be not to, and that's not fine, because Mitch very obviously is only into him as a friend, potentially with some benefits. And Auston is not going to force his one-sided feelings on him by way of a pretend relationship, that's just creepy. So unless his sisters invent a magic wand that makes Mitch fall in love with him, this right now is the best option. Doesn't convince them, of course, because they think he's emotionally challenged. Did he mention they're pests?

Today, at least, it's just him and his mom, Alexa off on a trip, Brey hanging out with her school friends and his dad still at work. They're going to have a barbecue with some family friends tonight, and his mom is busy preparing, Auston pitching in by basically just cutting things for the salads. It's good practice - he needs to learn how to do more cooking and most recipes seem to involve cutting shit and then not burning it.

The doorbell rings. His mom, her hands deep in steak marinade, asks: "Auston, can you open the door? I hope it's UPS this time. I need those measuring bowls."

Auston goes. At least here in Arizona, people are less likely to ask him to sign stuff.

It's not UPS.

That's Mitch standing there in jeans and a t-shirt, already looking buffer than he did at the end of the season, and for a moment, Auston is convinced this is some kind of hallucination. Maybe the fumes from all these veggies.

"Uh. Hi?"

Mitch awkwardly waves at him, then drops his hand.

Auston has so many questions and so many feelings. In the end, he decides to go for a hug first, cause it's been three weeks. Then he asks: "What, exactly, are you doing here?"

"I watched your video - you know, the post-game interview after we… after, and you said we all did our best, that we hadn't failed you," Mitch explains breathlessly, "and you said - you said that I was brilliant, Auston, and you looked -"

Auston blinks, feeling vaguely like he should google that video right now, because what the fuck had been on his face to make Mitch look like that? He mostly remembers being too exhausted to filter his words and trying not to swear at the reporters or the Caps. "What did I look like?"

"Like you - I don't know, but - " Mitch runs a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated, and steps closer. "Like it was real."

Oh, shit. Had he given himself away that much? Well. It's not a surprise, really. He knows he's in love with Mitch, and by the looks of it, everyone else had known, too. It's not surprising Mitch caught on, too.

"Sorry about that," Auston replies, resigned, "but I don't understand - why are you here? I was hoping to ignore my feelings until they go away, but-"

"Please don't."

For a moment, there's total silence.

Auston's brain can't even right now.

"I mean - that was totally my plan, too, but I'm starting to think we're really dumb," Mitch sort of explains, and well, that's at least accurate as to how Auston is feeling right now. Then he continues, "Because I want it to be real."

"I thought - you said Strome knew you'd never date me." Like. It's not just Auston being dumb here, okay? There was a legitimate reason for thinking Mitch was not into him at all.

Except Mitch says: "What? No, I didn't, what the fuck?"

Auston blinks.

Mitch blinks back. Then he seems to think. "Uh. I have no idea what you're on about all, but all that happened is that Stromer knew I wouldn't date you and not tell him about that cause he knows I can't keep quiet about you for shit. What's Stromer doing in this conversation, anyway?"

Well.

That changes things.

"Nothing, except I'll be delighted to blame everything on him," he says. He can tell that doesn't really clear up the confusion for Mitch, so he adds, "I misunderstood, apparently. Sorry."

"Sorry?" Mitch asks with his voice breaking on the second syllable. "Auston - you - you basically agreed to date me in front of ten reporters and then we went back to being bros and then had really fucking fantastic sex and then you wouldn't look at me anymore and I just - you're always so sure about everything, but I have no idea what is happening right now."

"If you're unsure about something like that - just ask, okay?" Auston says. He'd really like to avoid misunderstandings like this in the future, and he trusts Mitch more about communications than he does himself. "I won't be annoyed. Just cause I say what I mean doesn't mean I don't fuck up the phrasing and shit, or joke around instead. Also, I sometimes just - forget to say stuff?" He shrugs. "I don't know how to explain it. Like, my mom keeps telling me that I need to remember that things that are just so obvious to me aren't necessarily obvious to everyone else."

"Obvious things like what?" Mitch whispers.

Auston finally feels like he knows what to do, what Mitch needs to hear. It's a good feeling. He smiles and takes Mitch's hand. "You're beautiful. I want to date you, kiss you, get mocked by our teammates, do uncomfortable videos - everything with you." He pauses, then remembers that he wants to spell out everything obvious here, so he adds, "I'm in love with you."

  


For a moment, it's like everything stops for Mitch. Then Auston lifts the hand in his and places a single, gentle kiss on the inside of Mitch's wrist. Relief breaks in, along with validation because he guessed right; anger because they managed to miscommunicate so terribly; love for the way Auston just swept his insecurities away with a few sentences and a gesture; leftover confusion about the Strome thing - but mostly sheer relief, because the waiting is over, because now he gets to have Auston, for real.

Before he knows it, he's up on his tiptoes again, and this time, Auston meets him half-way. Mitch suddenly realises that this is their first private kiss. This just for them, and he doesn't feel bad at all about pressing closer to Auston and letting out a hungry sound. He doesn't know how much time has passed when Auston finally gentles the kiss until they run out of breath enough to pull away.

They're just standing there in front of the Matthews’ doorstep, Mitch's face on Auston's shoulder, Auston rubbing soothing circles into his lower back when a throat clears behind them. Mitch's head shoots up so fast he almost hits Auston in the chin. He can see Auston's mom (who's very lovely but, like, probably doesn't need to see that) standing behind them and feels his cheeks blush bright red. "Uh, hello, Mrs. Matthews."

Contrary to what he expected, Auston doesn't let him go at that, though, just manoeuvres them around so they're both facing his mother. "Mitch is here," he says, grinning. Mitch kind of wants to elbow him for that, because he's pretty sure Mrs. Matthews can see that for herself.  

She rolls her eyes at her son, too, then smiles at Mitch. "Hello, Mitch. For the hundredth time, just call me Ema. Are you staying for a while?"

Mitch can feel Auston's hands tense on his sides. Right. They haven't really talked about that part yet. But for once, he's very sure of what they both want. He reaches out to lay his hand on top of Auston's and squeezes reassuringly as he explains: "Yes. I thought - we're with my family in Toronto all the time, I don't want to take away from his time here with you. If that's okay with you, of course," he adds hastily, aware that he's basically invited himself over.

"Of course," Ema answers and Auston kisses his cheek in reply, which - oh, now he gets why Auston was blushing so much in the beginning. "There's a barbecue in an hour, and Auston was helping me prepare the salads," she looks at her son pointedly.

"Urgh, vegetables," Mitch scrunches up his face in only partly faked distaste.

"Oh great, now there's two of them," Auston's mom laments theatrically and turns around, presumably to make her way back into the kitchen. Mitch doesn't really follow in her tracks because Auston chooses that moment to murmur, "I really, really want to make out with you right now," and it takes a moment for Mitch to remember how to breathe.

Sadly, Auston is also pulling away, sighing regretfully, "But people. Later, though."

Mitch knows he sounds needy, but he asks anyway: "Promise?"

"Promise."

Then Auston, still holding Mitch's hand with his own left, grabs Mitch's duffel bag with his right and finally pulls him inside, probably towards some veggies in need of chopping.

That's how the rest of the family finds them, later, side by side at the counter, trading chirps about chopping techniques and nutrition habits. (There was a silent agreement not to make any cucumber jokes with a parent in the room.) Auston's dad doesn't even look surprised to see Mitch, just claps him on the back.

His younger sister, though, is weirdly triumphant. She hugs him, then says something in Spanish to Auston, who rolls his eyes and replies in English, "Right, you're the best, always right, the most beautiful, everything good in this world."

Breyana beams at the two of them and agrees: "Damn right I am. Mitch," she turns back to him, "We'll give you the shovel talk in a couple of days."

"Uh," is all he can think to say to that.

Ema says, "Boys, get the grill started. Guests are going to be here soon."

She's right: pretty soon, more and more people start gathering outside. Including Auston's grandparents from Mexico, holy fuck, couldn't Auston have warned him? Parents he met before are one thing, grandparents are a whole other league.

But they seem happy to meet him, and Auston is at hand to translate whatever their limited knowledge of each other's language can't manage. In fact, the whole time, Auston isn't shying away from him at all. It's even worse (better) than when they were trying to be demonstratively dating because even when he's not next to Mitch, he's looking at him with something like pride in his eyes, watching Mitch become a part of his family. Everyone just seems to accept that he's there as Auston's boyfriend, too, which is honestly a little mind-boggling.

Mitch is enjoying the fuck out of it.

Still, he's not complaining when Auston's dad waves them off when they go to clean up after everyone had left well after 10 p.m. "You three did the set-up, Brey and I will do the clean-up," he says.

Auston doesn't even let Mitch say "If you're sure," just tells his parents "Good night!" and pulls Mitch out of the room.

"Good night," Breyana calls from the outside, obnoxiously loud, "sleep well - if!"

Auston flips her the bird and drags Mitch away, not that that needs much force right now.

They're kissing as soon as they're through the door and don't stop for a long time. Mitch wants to crawl into Auston and never leave, and from the way Auston is holding him, he might be thinking the same thing. It's the first time he sees Auston's room here, but he's not really taking anything in except the feeling of the bed underneath him when Auston guides him to it, undressing him all the while.

Then he's naked and sitting in front of a fully-clothed Auston. But he remembers that night in the shower, the way Auston's eyes had gone hot and heavy when he saw him naked like that and he isn't worried. Instead he makes grabby hands at Auston's t-shirt, briefly getting the two of them all tangled up before it's finally off.

Auston's shorts are the next to go, and Mitch takes a moment to enjoy the view - Auston is hard in his boxers, for him. Last time, he'd been too keyed up and nervous to really appreciate it. Now, he reaches out and grabs the bulge, squeezing appreciatively.

Auston curses, "Fuck, Mitch," but doesn't move away, just weaves a hand loosely into his hair. Mitch takes that as permission to slowly pull down his boxers. When they're finally off, Auston kicks them away without looking, and, more importantly, without moving out of the circle of Mitch's hands now resting on his hips. Mitch thinks of availing himself of this position, but the end he just leans forward and presses a kiss to Auston's naked stomach.

"I kind of want to blow you, but I want you on top of me even more," he admits. For a second, Auston's hand in his hair tightens, then it lets go and lightly pushes him until Mitch is all stretched out.

For a moment, Auston just sits beside him on the narrow bed. When he lifts a hand, Mitch thinks he's finally going to touch his dick, but no, Auston apparently feels the need to cup his cheek, first, stroke down his nose, along the lines of his jaw. By the time his fingers reach the base of Mitch's throat, Mitch just knows that he's blushing everywhere. Auston's fingers keep exploring him, brushing over his nipples, his ribs, his belly, his hip… Finally, Mitch can't stand it anymore and grabs his hand, pulling. "Come here," he whines.

Auston smiles, looking very pleased with himself. Then he finally moves over and lowers himself down, hovering just above Mitch, lips just inches away from his. "Fuck, yes," Mitch moans unabashedly and pulls him close.

Look. Mitch has absolutely no intention of keeping secrets from Auston anymore, and how much he likes how much bigger his boyfriend is not even close to being the most embarrassing one.

His boyfriend. Mitch tries very hard not to giggle in delight at the thought.

Anyway, Auston can cover him completely, shoulders caging him in, even, and if Mitch thought the shower had been great with Auston pressing into him and all that, he's suddenly realizing that actually, Auston had been holding back then.

Now he's holding Mitch's hand with one of his own, pressing it down into the pillow and holding himself up at the same time, his other hand next to his head so he can bend down and kiss Mitch to an inch of his life. He's way too much in control and sure in his movements for someone who is actually younger than Mitch.

Mitch finally gives in and regretfully untangles his free hand from Auston's hair in order to push down between his shoulder blades. Auston holds out for way longer than Mitch thinks he should, probably just to fuck with him. Dick.

Then Auston's weight is on top of him and "Yesss," Mitch has to tear his mouth away to hiss as his hips move up and Auston's move down, their cocks finally sliding alongside each other. It's pretty dry, to be honest, but fuck if Mitch can be bothered about that right now.

Auston, though, uses the hand he now doesn't need for balance anymore to grab something from the nightstand. He lifts up again, just a little, to open the bottle with his teeth (Mitch is vaguely touched that he'd rather do that than let Mitch's hand go, but then again, hockey players aren't known for placing high value on their teeth.)

Mitch can feel Auston shift, just a little, and then his hand is there, enveloping the both of them. God, that's good. Auston seems to think so, too, cause his head drops down next to Mitch's with a breathless groan. He looks really good like this, and Mitch has to close his eyes for a moment, because fuck, that's a lot.

"So good, Mitch, so beautiful," Auston rumbles into his ear, and okay, usually Mitch would be all for Auston talking and complimenting him to heaven and back, really, but - right now, he just really wants Auston to kiss him.

"C'mon, just- come back here," he says and guides Auston's lips back to his own. Auston does kiss him. He kisses him while his hand speeds up, kisses him through the quiet noises Mitch can't help but make, kisses him until they're gasping and sticky and spent and have never felt better.

They slump, breathing into each other's mouths for a long moment before Auston flips them around so Mitch is the one lying on top of him. Mitch's dick actually gives a tired twitch at that.

"Man, if I'd known this is what's in store for me, I'd have declared my love for you in front of journalists sooner," Auston breaks the silence. He sounds tired but good. Happy.

"Wait, so you didn't plan this entire scheme just to get me into bed?" Mitch jokes.

"I honestly didn't think about it before we kissed." Mitch feels Auston move his shoulder in what's probably an aborted shrug. "Just seemed natural, being like that with you. Though in retrospect I can kinda see why Freddie called us, quote, ‘co-dependent little fuckers'."

Mitch laughs, "Shut up; you love it."

"Sure do," Auston replies, and Mitch feels a kiss being pressed into his hair.

"I can't believe you told reporters you were in a relationship with me without being aware you were in love with me," he says in amazement.

"I'm starting to think there's not much I wouldn't do for you."

Oh. Mitch kind of has to kiss him for that.

When he pulls away, Auston looks at him very earnestly. "Except one thing."

Mitch thinks he knows what's coming, is already laughing when Auston says, "Mitch. I'm still not playing for Canada," and kisses him again.

He can live with that.

  
  



End file.
